


never seen a unicorn

by akamine_chan



Category: Bandom, Gym Class Heroes, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travie takes his time, wrapping the rope around Mikey's chest, first high, then low, threading through the loop and tightening the rope, just right.  The rope feels soft against Mikey's skin, and it focuses Mikey's attention like nothing else ever has.  "You doing okay, Mikeyway?"  Travie asks patiently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never seen a unicorn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inlovewithnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/gifts).



> I was looking for some inspiration and was looking through the prompts at bandom_meme and strangely, this one really called to me. Ended up watching a bunch of really informative tutorials on YT from twistedmonk.com ( YT channel [here](https://www.youtube.com/user/twistedmonkstudios)). I really loved the matter-of-fact way these vids presented the material. 
> 
> Lookover by Andeincascade, title from _Holy Horseshit, Batman!_ by Gym Class Heroes.

Mikey doesn't remember how the subject came up, and in the end, it really doesn't matter.

Travie texts him a time and a date, plus an address in upper Manhattan that has Mikey whistling soundlessly in surprise. Not what he was expecting.

When he meets Travie in front of the building at the appointed time, he raises an eyebrow in question. Travie just shrugs and pulls him in tight. Mikey lets himself relax against Travie, letting go of all the things he's been worrying about in the back of his mind.

Travie gives their names to the concierge, who directs them to a bank of elevators against the far wall. Mikey looks down at his jeans and flannel shirt, glad that he'd chosen to wear his nicest, cleanest clothes.

"No worries, bruv," Travie says, "it's cool."

Mikey has his doubts about that, but he trusts Travie. He always has. Travie wraps his hand around Mikey's neck and squeezes, and the last of his tension just melts away. 

They get off the elevator and walk down a long corridor, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. Travie grabs Mikey's hand and leads the way.

Mikey likes it when Travie holds his hand; his hand is so big, so _capable_ and it makes Mikey feel protected. The only other person in the world that makes him feel like that is Gee. It's complicated, but Gee is his brother and Travie is the guy he's got an on-again-off-again _thing_ with, when they manage to be in the same part of the world at the same time.

He doesn't like thinking about the fact their individual lives are taking them in opposite directions.

 _2203_ , the door says, and Travie pulls Mikey to his side and knocks.

The guy who opens the door greets them with a smile and an abbreviated bow. He's middle-aged, of mixed race, and when the sleeve of his loose dress shirt slides up, Mikey sees that he's covered in enough tattoos to make _Frank_ jealous.

Mikey looks around the apartment, curious, and it's beautiful, all clean lines and modern furnishings. So different from Gee and Lyn's place out in Cali or Frank and Jamia's house in Jersey, homes filled with clutter and warmth and life.

Travie introduces Mikey to the guy, _Robert_ , and they move into the living room. There's an empty space where the coffee table's been pushed out of the way. Coiled on the floor are ropes, dark and twisted, and the sight of them against the white carpet makes something clench in Mikey's stomach. 

Shit just got real. He looks up at Travie, because this isn't them talking about something they'd like to try out, some theoretical day in the future. This is happening, now.

"You good, bruv?" Travie asks, and there's something in his tone of voice that makes Mikey close his eyes and _think_ about what he's feeling.

"Nervous," he confesses, and Travie nods. 

"That's okay. New things are scary." He kneels, tugging Mikey down with him. "If you wanna stop, you just say the word, your special word, and Robert will cut you loose." He indicates the blunt-nosed shears next to the ropes.

Mikey swallows hard. "Yeah." He shakes the hair out of his eyes and smiles at Travie, feeling a sureness blooming in his chest. "Yeah, let's do this." He pulls his shirt off, shivering a little in the cool air of the apartment.

Robert kneels next to Travie and picks up the first coil of rope. "Shibari is a misnomer," he murmurs. "What we're doing here is technically called kinbaku, tying artistically. It's all about the aesthetics of the ropes and knots, and the emotional involvement of the participants."

He hands the rope over to Travie, explains how to find the middle of the rope, the bight, and talks about the importance of keeping the pressure firm and to make sure the rope doesn't twist or overlap.

Slowly, carefully, he walks them through tying a simple chest harness on Mikey, detailing each step and why. Once Robert is done, he unravels the whole thing and hands the rope over to Travie. "Now you."

Travie takes his time, wrapping the rope around Mikey's chest, first high, then low, threading through the loop and tightening the rope, just right. The rope feels soft against Mikey's skin, and it focuses Mikey's attention like nothing else ever has. "You doing okay, Mikeyway?" Travie asks patiently.

"M'fine," Mikey says. He finds that he doesn't want to break the strange quiet that surrounds them. It's soothing, somehow.

It doesn't take long; Travie is a fast learner and he's really good with his hands. Mikey looks down at the rope, surprised at how gorgeous it is against his pale skin. 

"Ready for the next step?" Robert asks, and it is almost laughable how eagerly both he and Travie nod.

The next step involves pulling Mikey's wrists behind his back and tying them to the harness. Robert teaches Travie how to bind Mikey's wrists in a way that's comfortable and doesn't hurt, and isn't likely to cause circulation problems. The method's versatile; there can be as little or as much give between Mikey's wrists and his body as Travie wants.

Travie wants Mikey to feel it, so he tugs and pulls until Mikey's wrists are high up on his back, a little strain in his shoulders. 

"Very good," Robert says. He stands up, and out of the corner of his eye, Mikey sees him squeeze Travie's shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit."

"Relax, baby," Travie says. He spreads his legs wide, pulling Mikey back to rest against his chest. "What do you think?"

Mikey wiggles a little, feeling the way the rope bites without really _hurting_ , just holding him, almost like it's blunting all his sharp edges. It makes him feel. . .safe, different than being in Travie's arms. "Oh," he says, and his eyes flutter closed. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Travie's voice is a rumbling purr against Mikey's back, and a smile spreads across Mikey's face.

"Yeah," he echoes.

-fin-


End file.
